


of love and legacy

by theamazingbard



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Guardian Angels, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamazingbard/pseuds/theamazingbard
Summary: “Why the fuck am I being reassigned?”Yennefer closes her eyes and sighs. Then she finally swivels in her chair to face him. “You’ve been doing excellent work as a grim reaper. Everyone can see that.” She reaches for the notice with two fingers and lifts it into the air, a sneer on her face. “However, everyone can also see how macabre you’ve become over the years. Desensitized. Adrift.”“Bullshit.”“Swear at me one more time,” Her eyes narrow. “And I’ll reassign you to the fucking cherubs.”-After years and years of reaping souls, Geralt is reassigned to watching over just one: Jaskier.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 24
Kudos: 99





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> people keep telling me to put ALL my writing on ao3. i'm doing my best. so if you get annoyed seeing 'theamazingbard' over and over again in the next couple of days? 
> 
> sowwy

Geralt clutches the notice in his hands, the paper crumpling. He does not bother knocking on Yennefer’s door, does not care if she is busy. Decorum is less important than the injustice that’s just taken place. 

He strides across her office and slams the notice down on her desk. 

“Hello, Geralt. Is there something I can do for you?” She doesn’t look up from her work. Continues to type away at her enormous computer, eyeglasses perched at the end of her nose. Perfect ponytail swaying slightly as she reads Important Bullshit from Higher Up. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

“That is a reassignment notice.” Still, she does not look at him. “I’m sure even you can read.” 

“Why the fuck am I being reassigned?” 

Yennefer closes her eyes and sighs. Then she finally swivels in her chair to face him. “You’ve been doing excellent work as a grim reaper. Everyone can see that.” She reaches for the notice with two fingers and lifts it into the air, a sneer on her face. “However, everyone can also see how macabre you’ve become over the years. Desensitized. Adrift.” 

“That’s bullshit.” 

“It really isn’t.” The notice floats gently back to her desk as she lets it go. “Geralt, you may not believe this, but I’m doing it because I care about you despite your constant obstinate and bad attitude.”

“You reassigning me to guardian angels is _caring_ about me?” He says through gritted teeth. 

“Yes. Others, as well as myself, have noticed that you’re beginning to lose appreciation for life. Happens to the best of us.” 

“Bull _shit_.”

“Swear at me one more time,” Her eyes narrow. “And I’ll reassign you to the fucking cherubs.” 

Reluctantly, Geralt closes his mouth. 

“That’s better. Now,” She pulls open a drawer, then takes out a new file. “This is your charge. He may look like an idiot, but apparently his musical talents are incredible. Supposed to ‘inspire musicians for ages to come’.” 

Geralt picks up the file. He casts a look at Yennefer before flipping it open and reading the contents. “Julian Alfred Pankratz. Goes by Jaskier.” The pictures attached show a handsome young man playing a guitar. Looks like an open mic night at a bar. He frowns. Looks back up and Yennefer. And shakes his head. “No.” 

Yennefer snorts. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. The assignment is yours. Don’t fuck it up. You’re dismissed.” She turns back to her computer. 

Dismissed. As if _she’s_ the one who called this impromptu meeting. This isn’t over. He’ll get back to his grim assignment after this case. Protection isn’t something he’s cut out for. No fucking thank you. He turns to leave, file still clenched in his hands.

“Oh, and Geralt?” He turns to witness a truly terrifying smile. “If I find you try and sabotage this in anyway, I’ll have your balls on a silver platter.”


	2. Chapter 2

Though invisible to mortal eyes, Geralt still decides to sit in the back of the bar. 

On stage, Jaskier is preforming. The bar is half empty but those who are in the audience pay close attention to the young musician. They seem to really enjoy his music

Geralt, however, isn't impressed. Though he’s talented, his songs leave much to be desired. All fluff with no substance. 

And _this_ is the man who is supposed to inspire artists for ages to come? 

Geralt rubs at his temples. 

He curses Yennefer again. Her, and whoever else was in charge of this decision.

So far this week, Geralt has had to save the idiot _three times._ The first time, he had to yank Jaskier out of oncoming traffic. He was too busy looking for the _right song to listen to_. Geralt pulled him back by the hood in order to avoid a bus going far too fast. Jaskier spent the next minute looking around for whoever saved him. He looked right through Geralt. Two days later, he had to remind his charge that he left his stove on. This one was trickier to do without alerting Jaskier to his presence. He had to settle for knocking over a box of cereal like a fucking cat. Finally, Jaskier’s shoes were untied and he nearly tripped down the stairs. The moment he had stopped to check a message received on his... speaking device (why it can't wait, he'll never know), Geralt tied his shoes like one might for a child. 

All in all, Geralt is _furious_ to be on this assignment. 

Why did Yennefer think this was a good idea? How is this supposed to make him appreciate life? 

It’s bullshit. 

He crosses his arms and leans back into his chair, waiting for Jaskier’s set to finish. The sooner this asshole is at home, in bed, the better. 

Thankfully, Jaskier only plays two more songs before he wraps up. He bows with a flourish, and lets his scant audience know that he’s selling some CDs and tshirts for the next few minutes. 

Geralt sighs as he watches.

Never before has he had to spend so much time with an individual. When he was a reaper, he’d hold their hand. Escort them to the beyond. The after. The end. And that was all. Now, though. Now, he’s forced to learn. It’s almost _socializing._ Jaskier certainly talks enough. To anyone and everyone who will listen. Even when the man is alone, he’s chatting away.

Which is why it comes as no surprise that Jaskier speaks with each and every person who comes up. Takes pictures. Signs CDs. Rather than a few minutes, Geralt finds himself sitting for nearly 45 minutes. 

It’s nearly one in the morning when Jaskier packs up all his shit and exits the bar. For a moment, Jaskier stands just outside. He puts large, expensive looking headphones over his ears before taking off. In one hand, he has a small suitcase filled with his merchandise. The other holds his… music playing machine. (Technology has changed so much in the past decade. He refuses to learn terms until they’ve settled on something universally.) 

Of course he isn’t paying attention. There’s _no_ danger walking alone at night. 

Geralt trails after him, still at a distance. He passes through people and objects like smoke. This is not the first time he’s followed behind like this, and it won’t be the last. By the end of the fifteen minute walk back to Jaskier’s flat, he’ll probably have to save him from one of those ridiculous motorized scooters. 

He frowns when he sees two figures begin to follow Jaskier. One in a black hoodie, the other wearing leather jacket. When the musician turns down a dark alley, so do they. 

Over his many, many years, Geralt has seen deaths come to pass in places such as these. 

Not tonight. 

Leather Jacket, slightly taller than Jaskier, grabs at the guitar case strapped to his back and pushes him to the ground. His headphones clatter a few feet away, and the glass on his music device shatters. 

Geralt holds back. There’s no weapon yet. He looks around the alley for something, anything that he can use. Looks back down the street for anyone who might see. Nothing and no one. 

_Shit.  
_

“Give us your money!” 

Jaskier scoffs, and rolls over on the ground to look up at his assailants. “I’m sorry, I thought you asked for money.” Blood drips down from a small wound on his temple.

“Hurry the fuck up!” Black Hoodie says. 

“Oh, you did. Well, gentlemen. I must say that this business venture of yours is hardly worth the trouble,” Jaskier hisses as he reaches into his back pocket. “Haven’t you ever heard the term ‘starving artist’?” 

Leather Jacket reaches for a knife. 

Geralt, now visible, kicks Leather Jacket in the back. Strong enough to knock him over, not enough to do any (lasting) damage. He turns to Black Hoodie and punches him in the face. Like his partner, he too falls to the ground. 

It was a stupid, desperate thing to do. But Geralt didn’t understand the magnitude of just how stupid it was until he sees the look on Jaskier’s face. 

“That… was _incredible_.” 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like. the chapters start off pretty short. but they're gonna get longer. 4 is at 1.7k where as the first one wasn't even 500 words i don't think. so ya hope you're ready for an inconsistent ride lol
> 
> thanks for all the compliments lovelies <3
> 
> xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what it's 2 in the morning??? what are you??? my MOM?

“Go away.” 

“And leave my savior without thanks? How could I possibly?” 

Jaskier has been following him for _blocks._ Chattering away, asking him questions. Needling him. There’s been no opportunity to phase out. To become invisible. “I don’t need your thanks.” 

He turns a corner, walking faster. All he needs is one single moment. One instant to disappear. 

“Who needs a thanks, anyway?” Jaskier trails after him, picking up his own pace. “Two words, so quickly forgotten. What _I_ can offer is much better than a simple thank you.” 

“I don’t care what you have to offer.” Short of literally running away, it looks like he’s stuck with entertaining his charge until he gets bored. Surely repeatedly turning him down will eventually wear him down. 

“Ah, but you don’t even know what’s on the table, now do you?” Far too much bullshit has happened to this man in the past week alone for him to be this much of an optimist. “Listen. You saved my life. Which has me thinking, what is the best way I can repay you?” 

Geralt, at this point, has just been walking laps around the neighborhood. And he'll keep going until he gets a moment. Humans tire out. _  
_

Then, above them, thunder rumbles.

There was not supposed to be a storm today. 

Geralt stops in his tracks and looks at the sky, grey and foreboding. Light shines from behind the clouds for a moment, followed by another clap of thunder.

Fuck. 

“Well, I can’t say I expected you to be afraid of thunder after that heroic display!” Geralt turns to glare at Jaskier. “But we all have our crosses to bear. We can go back to my place. Take shelter! And then I can get your story.” 

Geralt closes his eyes and shakes his head. Anything to delay the inevitable. “Fine.”

-

Jaskier’s flat is small. Cramped. Filled with bits of art here and second hand books there. Pictures decorate the walls. Geralt hadn’t paid them any mind before. Looking now, he can see that Jaskier has done a fair bit of traveling. 

Hm. 

“Oh shit,” Jaskier says from the kitchen. “I don’t have anything to eat! I’m going to order some take out. D’you want anything?” 

“No.” The living room hardly has enough space for more than a small bookcase, a two person couch with a tiny coffee table before it, and a guitar. Geralt sits. Wonders how long before it'll be safe to go back to the keep. He turns his head to look out the window. The rain comes down hard. 

At least another hour, then. 

Jaskier comes back after a few minutes. Two mugs in hand. He sets one in front of Geralt. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your tea. I’m guessing with absolutely no sugar.” 

Geralt stares at him. 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He smiles wide. “I also ordered a bunch of food. I’m starving. There should be enough for you as well. You _must_ be hungry. Hm. What’s your name, by the way? I didn’t catch it.” 

“Geralt.” 

A clap of thunder.

Even Jaskier jumps at the sound. “Wow! Well, I’m sure everyone is awake now. What a storm!” He plops down next to Geralt, the hot tea nearly sloshing over the side as he does. “Now, Geralt.” 

Geralt blinks. 

“The storm. Your arrival. This night. It all means something.” 

He frowns. 

“And so I absolutely have to put this to music.” 

“No.” 

“You can’t stop creative genius, my friend. It’s simply not done!” Jaskier sips at his tea, then winces. “That still needs time to cool down.” Geralt could have told him that. Can’t help but feel smug that he didn’t. “I can make you immortal. In fact, I can already hear the tune. Allow me to do this. It’s basically a life for a life!” 

“It really isn’t.” 

“I’ll change your name! Won’t describe your…” Jaskier narrows his eyes, sweeps his gaze up and down. “Truly magnificent appearance. Though have you heard of a color other than black? You look as though you’re going to a funeral.” 

Geralt smirks. If only he knew. 

“That looks like a yes!” Jaskier pulls out a pen and paper from his back pocket. It’s a little wet at the edges. “Great! Should we get started?” Then, the doorbell goes off. Following it is a long, exaggerated groan. “By the Gods. Fine. I’ll be _right_ back.” Geralt’s eyes cross as Jaskier points a finger perilously close to his face. “Don’t go anywhere. No escaping through… the window or something.” And with that, he disappears to go collect whatever take out he ordered.

The window is actually a good idea. Geralt hadn’t thought of that. He won’t actually leave that way, just open it and phase out. Quietly, he shifts around on the couch, slides the window open, then steps back. 

It’s then he hears the call. The thunder was one thing, this is an entirely different beast. One he can’t ignore. 

Hopefully Jaskier can keep himself alive until Geralt comes back. 

Hopefully Yennefer won’t fucking kill him. 

With a flap of his wings, he’s off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> godspeed geralt
> 
> xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

Geralt watches as Jaskier finishes taking his bows. 

It looks like thanking the crowd takes just as long as an entire set does. He sighs heavily and concentrates on wiping down glasses in his spare time. After all, he’ll only have precious few seconds before the inevitable. 

He’s going to kill Yennefer. 

“Why, Geralt!” Jaskier practically bounces across the bar. “It seems Destiny herself cannot keep us apart!” 

Despite the nature of what he is, Geralt does not believe in Destiny. Yet here she is, fucking him over. “Hm.” He moves on to the next glass. It being closer to the end of the evening, the most he has left to do is clean. 

“Could I trouble you for some water?” 

“You seem to have no problems causing any sort of trouble.” Replies Geralt dryly. All the same, he works in a fucking bar now. At least _this_ job pays. He uses the glass he was drying and fills it with water. Then, he hands it to Jaskier. 

“No ice?” 

Geralt huffs and continues working. He only really has to stay here until Jaskier leaves. That was the deal that Yennefer pulled with the owner of this place. 

“Alright, alright. Mr. Grumpy Pants.” Jaskier sips at his water and watches Geralt. It has been decades, perhaps centuries since Geralt last spent an extended period of time with humans. But even he knows the staring is rude. He turns to glare at Jaskier who continues to smile. “I can’t believe you actually crawled out the window last night. I mean, I’ve done my fair share of escaping, but it’s mostly after a night of too much drinking.” 

“Hm.” 

“I think it’s great that you work here! We can see each other _all_ the time now. _And_ it means that-” 

“I’m not interested in being a part of your songs.” After hearing the substance-less drivel, he’d much rather Jaskier turn his artistic vision elsewhere. How this man is supposed to inspire for generations to come is beyond him. 

Jaskier tsks. “I’m afraid it’s far too late, my friend.” 

“I’m not your friend.” 

“I take inspiration from real life, you see. Grand adventures. War. Tragedy,” He grins and gestures to Geralt. “Heroes.” 

Geralt purses his lips and tries as best he can to wash glasses he’ll never use. 

“…Right, well, anyway, mysterious stranger,” Jaskier finishes off the rest of his water in an impressive gulp. He really must have been thirsty. “Do tell! Have you been in the city long? Found a favorite restaurant yet?” 

“No.” 

“Uh. No to which question?” 

“Hm.” 

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. Big scary loner man. You probably want to be left in peace to brood forevermore.” 

Geralt pauses for a moment, takes the time to look at Jaskier with a raised eyebrow. 

“So, you disagree with me, then?” A grin spreads across Jaskier’s face. Deliberately misunderstanding Geralt’s expression. “Well then! Since you are more than amenable to finding a new restaurant, how about I take you out? There’s a really good burger place not too far from here. It’ll change your life. We can meet there tomorrow, say… 4 o’ clock?” 

Geralt _could_ say no. But the truth is, he’ll be in this burger place no matter what. He might as well go. Maybe then Jaskier will grow bored of him and he can do his work in peace. “Fine.” 

Jaskier brightens, sits up straighter. “Excellent! I’ll text you the address. What’s your number?” 

“I don’t have a phone. I’ll just meet you there.” 

Instinctively, Geralt knows where Jaskier is. When Jaskier is in imminent danger, he is sometimes able to know where Jaskier is _going_ to be. Finding a… burger joint… should not be difficult. 

Undeterred, Jaskier grabs a napkin and scribbles down an address. “Here you are!” Another smile. Brighter. “Can’t wait!” Then he runs off, nearly tripping over his shoelaces. 

\- 

Jaskier was running late. Of course he was. Not that it really mattered. Geralt is beside him the entire time. 

Beside Jaskier when he wakes up and presses snooze half a dozen times. Beside him when he sleeps in. Beside him when he takes too-long a shower. Beside him when he preens and primps in front of a mirror. And beside him when he runs out the door. 

“Well, Geralt,” Jaskier says, as if knowing that Geralt is next to him. “Perhaps if you had a phone, I could tell you I’m a teeny-tiny bit late!” 

“Well, Jaskier,” Geralt replies, knowing he’s unheard, “Perhaps if you didn’t sleep in until an ungodly hour, this wouldn’t be a fucking problem.” 

The two of them are quite lucky that Jaskier doesn’t accidentally throw himself in front of a bus while crossing the street without looking. 

Geralt waits until the last possible moment before leaving Jaskier’s side to appear in front of the restaurant. It’s not exactly the nicest looking place. Not the type of place he’d expect Jaskier to spend good money in. Yet, as the musician approaches, there’s nothing but excitement coloring his features. 

Odd. 

“Geralt!” Jaskier greets. “Are you ready to have the best burger of your life?” 

He doesn’t mention that he has no life left, nor has he eaten anything for centuries. In that way, he supposes that Jaskier will be right. Though that would also make this the worst burger of his not-life. 

They enter, grab a table, and look over the menus. 

“Oh, I know what you should get,” Jaskier says almost ten seconds after finishing picking out what he wanted. “You should definitely get the classic. Not too much on it, but enough to give it some flavor. And, judging by the look on your face, you aren’t too adventurous with your food in the first place.” 

He’s adventurous enough to try food. “Hm.” 

“Right then. And. Hm. Would you be so daring as to get a milkshake?” 

At this point? 

He shrugs. 

“Excellent!” 

Jaskier orders for the two of them. 

While they wait for their food, Jaskier chatters away about his newest song ideas, and how Geralt has helped him, actually. “I mean really, Geralt. I’ve always wanted to do something more exciting, something… grounded in reality. And this…” He pulls out an older looking… music listening device. Probably not a phone. Hard to say. “This is the proof. That _this_ is what I’ve been waiting for.” 

He pushes the device towards Geralt. 

Geralt reaches out and touches it, his fingers brushing against Jaskier’s. They’re warm. He pulls his hand back. 

“Look, can you just give it a listen? It’s about you, so I think I kind of need your permission, or something.” 

“Permission?” Geralt tilts his head. 

“Well, I’m not exactly reading the ‘law’ verbatim. And it’s not like I’m saying anything _bad_ about you, but I’d still prefer if you’d like it! Which, why wouldn’t you? It’s the best song I’ve-” 

Without waiting for anymore of Jaskier’s chattering, he grabs the earbuds, sticks them in his ears, and jabs his finger at one of the buttons. 

The music begins. 

A strong melody. The tale of a hero, appearing from the shadows. An unknown origin. An ending that looks towards the future. 

The music ends. 

He removes the ear buds and looks up at Jaskier, who is smiling eagerly. 

“Well?” 

“Well, what?” 

“You must have some review for me. Three words or less!” 

Geralt things for a moment. “He doesn’t exist.” 

“…Who doesn’t exist?” 

“The person from your song.” 

“Psh!” Jaskier waves his hand about in the air. “You don’t need to be humble around me, my dear savior.” 

Geralt rolls his eyes. Keeping his charge safe doesn’t make him some storybook hero. He only minutely shakes his head. 

It was an okay song. Definitely an improvement on the ones that Geralt has heard thus far. He wouldn’t be opposed to hearing more in the future. Though he does hope that he isn’t the subject of the next one. Or whatever character Jaskier has conjured up in his stead. 

Jaskier doesn’t have time to babble any further, as the food has finally arrived. 

A plate is placed in front of him. 

The waiter also places a milkshake in the middle. There’s just the one. 

Hm. 

“Dig in!” 

Geralt slowly reaches for the burger. It’s greasy. He looks up at Jaskier, who has already begun to stuff his face. 

It’s just food, he thinks. There’s no need for it, but there’s also no reason to be so hesitant. Yennefer said that if he was going to live among humans, he might as well try to act like one. 

Fine. 

He takes a bite. 

And. 

It almost pisses him off how good it is. He chews carefully, tasting the ‘classic’ burger. 

“Is that a smile I see?” 

“Fuck off.” Geralt says, his mouth still full. 

“Heathen.” But Jaskier is smiling wide. 

Jaskier finishes his burger first, more adept at eating than Geralt is. But Geralt enjoys eating more than he thought he would. It’s… different. 

All the while, Jaskier has this smug fucking look on his face. An ‘I told you so’ without the words. Incredible, how one can talk so much without opening their mouth. 

Geralt wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Gods, use a _napkin_ ,” His charge reaches for a napkin, then reaches across the table to wipe Geralt’s face. “A grown man, eating like a toddler. Won’t be so good for your reputation as a hero!” 

He does not bother correcting Jaskier. Seeing as he’s been reintroduced to food, and was pleasantly surprised by the song, he’ll let it slide. This time. 

At the end of his meal, Jaskier pushes the milkshake towards Geralt. “Give that a go. Here.” He jabs two straws against the table, undoing the paper cover. His tongue is sticking out. “One. Two. Okay, now you lean in.” 

“Usually, people drink out of their own glass.” 

“People who have significantly less fun and who don’t have milkshakes, sure.” 

Geralt should feel more annoyed than he does. 

Instead, he finds himself leaning in and taking a straw into his mouth at the same time as Jaskier does. 

It’s pretty good. 

This time, when Jaskier smiles, Geralt returns it. Just a little.

He doesn’t want his charge to get any fucking ideas about this being a regular thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm caught up w my drabbles that i have on tumblr. might be a while before the next chapter sorry y'all. but i know where this is going and am excited to share it with you!

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @theamazingbard or w/e. i have too many wips going so. there's that to look forward to. uh... unsure how often i'll update this sorry
> 
> xoxo


End file.
